


Lay Low

by howelleheir



Series: Unfinished Works [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howelleheir/pseuds/howelleheir
Summary: Bits and pieces, scraps, scenes, and other unfinished works. Many stop mid-sentence, most never develop a plot. These are all pieces that I started at one point or another and then moved on to another work, another ship, another fandom, or just got too busy to work on anything, so they will likely never be finished, but some of them were fun, and some were even good, so I'm putting them all out there with the disclaimer that they are abandoned WIPs, and unless a particular piece gets a lot of love and re-sparks my interest, I have no intention of coming back to them. Various fandoms and genres, some pieces very porny, some downright objectionable. Tread with care and mind the tags.In this work: Steve and Bucky kill some time while hiding from their pursuers.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Unfinished Works [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594933
Kudos: 8





	Lay Low

Breathless, Steve closed the door behind them and pressed himself to the wall next to an adjacent window, peering out. The agents pursuing them swept past without a second look.

“Clear,” he whispered. “But they’ll be thick out there. Let’s see if we can find an exit.”

From the shadows, he heard Bucky grunt in response. The room they’d entered was small. Steve felt his way along the wall, bumping into a dusty metal desk toward the back before his eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

“No exit,” Bucky murmured, and Steve squinted, glancing around the room. The outline of a bricked-in doorway in the back right-hand corner confirmed it. This room must have been sealed off to be rented separately from the rest of the building. From the looks of it, it was a small office. “What now?”

Steve shook his head. “Too dangerous to go back out the way we came.”

Curiously, he walked over to the doorway and rapped at it with his knuckles.

“We could break through this,” he said. “But I don’t want to draw any attention. Let’s try to lay low here for a while. If they start poking around, you hold them back while I make an exit.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, waving the fingers of his metal arm. “ _ You _ hold them back.  _ I’ll _ make the exit.”

“Hm,” Steve conceded. He took a seat on the corner of the desk, outside of the beam of light from the window, but positioned close enough that he could see a sliver of the street. Enough to know if any of their assailants made a second pass.

“How long do we wait?” Bucky asked, leaning against the back wall.

Steve did some mental math before replying, “Twenty minutes. They’ll have fanned out by then, so if we come across any more of them, they’ll be in small teams. Easy to take out.”

“You remember that base we took out in Bergstrasse?” Bucky asked.

Steve turned sharply, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah...do you?”

Bucky gave a lazy smile, taking a step toward Steve and running his hands over his shoulders.

“We took cover in a bombed-out barracks,” he said, working his fingers deep into the muscle of Steve’s shoulders. “You sent the other boys out to form a perimeter. Only, the terrain was pretty rough, so it was gonna take them a while to get into position. And we hadn’t had a second alone since London…”

“Buck,” Steve hissed, keeping his eyes locked on the window. He was glad it was dark; his face felt hot remembering it.

Chuckling softly, Bucky let his hands wander from Steve’s shoulders to the small of his back, up his sides and over his arms. “What?” he asked with mock innocence.

“Not the time or the place,” Steve said, but he leaned into Bucky’s touch in spite of himself.

“It wasn’t in Bergstrasse, either,” said Bucky. Steve shivered at the feeling of Bucky’s lips brushing the back of his neck. “Come on, Rogers. We’ve got twenty minutes and a hell of a lot of lost time to make up for.”

It wasn’t a good idea.

“Okay,” Steve sighed. “But one of us keeps eyes on the window at all times.”

“You first.”

Bucky closed his fingers around Steve’s biceps with a low, appreciative whistle, then slid them around front to work across his chest and down his stomach. Steve had to force his eyes back open when Bucky’s hand cupped him through his jeans, his tongue making slow circles over the side of Steve’s throat.

Five years. It had been five years, not counting his time in the ice, since the last time they’d done this. For Bucky, it had been even longer. 

Shifting his weight forward, Steve broke Bucky’s grip on him and turned, knocking him off balance, onto the desk and crossing behind him before pulling his hips toward the end facing the back wall, so that Bucky was bent over it, across its length.

“Your turn,” he said. Bucky nodded and turned his eyes to the window while Steve reached around his hips and undid his button and zipper. Tugging down on the waistband, Steve sank to his knees behind Bucky, squeezed his exposed buttocks and pulled them apart to sweep a thumb between them. Bucky gave a muffled groan into the back of his right hand as Steve leaned forward and pressed his mouth to him, working his tongue over him in firm strokes.


End file.
